


Curiosity Killed The Cat

by piggybackride (mssileas)



Series: Cryptid OT3 [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Body Horror, Dr. Junkenstein - Freeform, Fluff (yeah for real), Frankenhog, Freeform, Frottage, Hayseed Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Junkenstein's Revenge, M/M, Monster/Hayseed/Junkenstein, OT3, The Monster is not alive yet so technically necrophilia, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 09:57:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssileas/pseuds/piggybackride
Summary: - and satisfaction brought it back.This time, he would justlook, Hayseed promised himself. Get a tiny little glance, just to see how their new friend is coming along. No touching, he swears.





	Curiosity Killed The Cat

**Author's Note:**

> A little something about two favorite Junkrat skins of mine and the glorious monster - fueled and inspired by too many good headcanons *hugs the squad*
> 
> Enjoy!

Hayseed opens the door leading down to the dungeons as quietly as he can, just enough so he can slip through the small gap. Technically, he isn’t supposed to go here. Just because of that _one_ incident, and that is so unfair. 

He hadn’t known that the Doctor had not yet sealed up the Monster’s gut for good when he went to see it for the first time! He cringes at the memory of how his blackened hand touched the Monster’s huge, protruding belly - as gently as he was capable of, and only out of admiration - only for the loose stitches to come undone, making everything they were supposed to hold in spill forward. 

It was just a mass of intestines and liquids and he remembers how they slipped right through his fingers when he tried to frantically push them back in. The stump of his right arm was no help and by the time the Doctor marched down the steps, Hayseed was a whimpering bundle of distress— like a kid caught with his fingers in the cookie jar, only messier and smellier. 

He had rarely seen the Doctor that angry before. Distraught or upset, sure. Desperate, sometimes. That night, though, he yelled at Hayseed until the scarecrow all but attempted to disappear into the corner he was crouching in, head hung in shame and fear while his creator scolded and cursed him as he tried to repair what Hayseed has damaged on the Monster. He hadn’t meant to do that!

He has since been banned from the lab regardless. The Doctor will still talk to him about his project, about the progress, his ideas and ways to improve the creature he’s building in the cold, clammy dungeons. But he never takes the Scarecrow with him anymore. 

Usually, Hayseed doesn’t even like being down there in the first place. It’s just dark and freezing and he prefers to be outside on the fields, guarding the grounds of his master. It’s especially pleasant when the sun is shining, warming him to the core of his weirdly numb body and making his ponytail of straw gleam in the same golden color the Doctor claims it had _before_. Whatever this “before” means. 

However, only the dungeons allow for ideal experiment conditions, the Doctor insists, and Hayseed does not doubt him. The Doctor is very smart. Smarter than the people down in the village, and way smarter than Hayseed can ever dream of being. 

So how can he not be fascinated with his maker’s newest creation and seek to get to know it?

The Doctor is sound asleep now, passed out on a moth-bitten sofa and snoring softly into a lumpy pillow. Despite knowing better, Hayseed still had to sneak up and carefully pull a holey blanket over his slim form, satisfied to his very core when the exhausted man curled up under it. Then he slipped off. 

This time, he would just _look_ , Hayseed promised himself. Get a tiny little glance, just to see how their new friend is coming along. No touching, he swears. 

-

 

He’s very careful with the torch when he puts it into the holder - the Doctor keeps reminding him he should stay away from fire, but even a creature like Hayseed needs light to see. The flickering flame paints huge, dancing shadows on the blank stone walls, basking the room in a light that is much nicer than the faint, fluorescent glow of various tubes and vials on the shelves.

The Monster looks much bigger than he remembers it, and Hayseed’s already barely noticeable breathing stops completely for a minute. It’s a huge bulk of mass on the heavy-set stone table, covered by a thin piece of cloth all the way to its shoulders as if it’s sleeping. There’s no signs of life in it yet - no heartbeat, no breathing, no movement. Despite this, it still looks ready to just get up and walk. 

Hayseed sneaks closer until he can inspect the creature’s face. He’s silent when he takes a step with his foot of blackened flesh, but he winces inwardly at every dull thud his wooden peg makes. The brass rings around the lenses that make up his eyes whirr softly when he adjusts them to take in the unfamiliar shapes. The Doctor always says he made Hayseed look like himself on purpose. The Monster looks distinctly different from them and it intrigues him. 

It has real, black hair that shimmers in the warm torch light, a broad face with a heavy, scowling brow and a _snout_ for a nose that reminds Hayseed of the wild, roaming hogs that live in the woods. He thinks about how they snuffle and dig through the loose soil with their snouts and giggles quietly through sealed lips when he wonders whether the Monster will nuzzle at him like that too. 

In his mind, there’s no doubt that he and the Monster will be friends. They come from the hands of the same maker, so how could they not? He pulls in the Doctor’s chair and flops down on it so he can rest his head on his arm right on the table next to the Monster’s face, taking in every detail he can get. Its fleshy cheeks and thick lips, the adorable snout nose and comparatively small ears that are a weird color, almost the same as the doctor’s skin. Everywhere else, it’s a bit sickly green, and pale. Hayseed thinks that will change once the Doctor has brought it to life. 

He knows he promised not to touch anything - but he’s too curious for his own good. Being as gentle as he can, he picks up the cloth and slowly uncovers more of the Monster’s body. There’s a huge scar where its face is sewed to its neck, and then it grows into a chest so broad Hayseed instinctively wants to place his head there instead of the cold stone table, though the Monster’s body is probably not warm yet. Hayseed feels a rare, excited tickle in his body that is hidden under stuffing and seams - he does not experience a lot of physical urges. Not for water or food, not for touches or closeness, so the unfamiliar tickling makes him squirm on the chair.

Only once the slight tremble in his fingers has stopped, he continues peeling away the cloth. 

He’s extra careful when he pulls it over the swell of a heavy belly, but the stitches look sealed and tight this time, so he relaxes a bit. No more literally gut-wrenching accidents to be expected here. 

Everything on the Monster is magnificent. Its arms are as thick as Hayseed’s whole body, and it has huge hands that could probably rip a mortal in half with no effort at all. The crook between its chest and arm looks so inviting, and Hayseed feels his heart flutter in his chest like a little bird in a cage. 

He can’t help himself. The temptation wins, and his hand carefully touches the gracious curve of the Monster’s belly. Its skin is thick and the flesh underneath surprisingly soft. There’s no tension yet in its muscles, but it promises strength all the same where a curious hand now travels across the plains and slopes of this masterpiece the Doctor has created. The arm is bulging, even with lax muscles, and Hayseed whimpers softly in his throat when he tries to wrap his hand around a thick wrist and it reaches barely halfway around. 

There’s a distinct pull in his whole body he can’t ignore any longer. He yearns to feel so much more, in his chest and his stomach and then even lower, where he seldom takes interest in anything. But now it wants to be pressed to his companion as much as everything else. 

Hayseed hesitates for a moment, and then moves carefully from the chair. He’s very light, he knows that. Even the Doctor can carry him effortlessly, and he stands a bit shorter than Hayseed. If he’s cautious, he won’t do any damage, he’s sure. 

The Monster’s arm is surprisingly heavy when Hayseed shifts it a bit away from the creature’s body, so it opens a gap he can slip in. Thankfully, he’s slim enough to fit on the table next to it. There’s a quiet rustle when he adjusts himself, and then he stretches out next to the Monster, perfectly fitting into the space he’s made for himself. 

As a finishing touch he reaches for the big hand, and places it around his hip - it’s heavy enough to stay in place, even with no real grip on him, and Hayseed happily nestles his head against the Monster’s chest. How much nicer it’d be if it was breathing, he thinks, but he takes what he can get for now.

His whole body is lining up next to the Monster now, it’s tickling all of his frayed nerve endings, and fills him with something he can’t place. His hips are pressed into the creature’s soft belly where it spills to the sides, and every tiny movement makes his body feel even more impatient than satisfied. 

He shouldn’t be doing this - he’s already taken it way too far. The Doctor is right upstairs, if he wakes and finds Hayseed missing he will go looking for him, but he can’t bear to let go. Surely the Doctor would understand. It’s his creation after all, his masterpiece, and Hayseed just wants to _appreciate_ it -

He’s so torn between worrying that he will be caught and the urge to rut against the Monster with more intent now, fanning the fire that’s stirring between his legs, that he forgets to actually listen. When he’s finally aware of the uneven steps on the stone floor, it’s already too late.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the familiar voice speaks to him and Hayseed freezes. He hides what counts for his face in the Monster’s armpit, clinging to it despite knowing that he should let go instead. Hayseed doesn’t want to leave it. He has loved it ever since he first laid eyes on it, and he just wants to be close to it, he’s not even damaging it! But he almost loves the Doctor more for making it, for bringing it into this world by the image in his head and with nothing but his own hands. One of which isn’t even his actual own hand anymore. 

Before he can move, there’s a solid touch at his shoulder, and Hayseed peeks up with one whirring brass eye. The Doctor’s face is distorted by the ever changing shadows on it. He does not look angry. He’s surprisingly calm rather, letting his gaze wander over his creations and the intimate embrace he has found them in. His skillful fingers gently stroke Hayseed’s arm, and the Scarecrow relaxes a bit. 

“I should be mad at you for sneaking in here,” he says quietly. “But, to be honest, I’m glad you like him. He’s magnificent, isn’t he?” There’s a strange excitement to his raspy voice and it makes Hayseed shiver with agreement. “I was afraid you’d be jealous of him,” the Doctor continues thoughtfully, and his gaze wanders to where Hayseed can’t help but rub his hips against soft flesh in the tiniest movements. “But I see you’ve already taken a rather special liking to him.” Hayseed whimpers through his sealed lips. “Interesting.”

Ever the scientist, ever curious, the Doctor lifts the Monster’s arm off him so he can watch his creature’s efforts to still a hunger it doesn’t know. He didn’t make Hayseed for that purpose. He didn’t take the necessary parts from him, either, but the Scarecrow has never attempted to seek physical pleasure this obviously before. It is intriguing to watch. 

He strokes the light creature’s body, until his hand comes to rest on Hayseed’s hip, just feeling him move without guiding him. He knows sooner or later he will have to show Hayseed what to do, he doesn’t do well without guidance, but he decides to let him explore on his own terms for a moment. Maybe it is good for the Scarecrow to get to know the Monster like this. Before he can get intimidated by its forcefulness once it’s awake. 

“Do you like how big it is?” he asks, and Hayseed nods frantically. The accompanying rustling makes the Doctor smile a bit. “It’s that big everywhere,” he chuckles. He doesn’t know whether Hayseed understands the implication, but it makes the creature press its hips into the Monster’s flesh more urgently now, so maybe he does. 

He’s panting now, muffled underneath the burlap, and blackened fingers dig into lifeless flesh where Hayseed’s hand is resting on the Monster’s belly. 

The doctor slips his hand between his two creations - the Monster’s skin is soft and cold against the back of his hand, but Hayseed is hot and hard where he presses into the Doctor’s palms and his panting breaks into raw, inhumane noise. 

There’s a ripping sound when seams are torn apart and the Doctor’s fingers dig through straw stuffing until Hayseed feels the touch of skin on his vulnerable, bare body for the first time. It should scare him, but his mind is foggy and the coaxing touches feel so nice. He's _throbbing_ down there and the unfamiliar sensation leaves him breathless. The hand leaves him too soon, but only to slip into the waistband of his pants and drag it down over his hips. 

He’s shivering now. The Scarecrow is so used to his body being padded by warm, cushioning straw, sewn safely into clothes to make out his shape to appear bigger than he is. He feels frail and naked now and only the Doctor’s comforting touch on his skin makes it somewhat bearable. There’s the slightest push at the small of his back, and then his hard flesh is rubbing against the Monster. The contact is so much more intense now - Hayseed feels something clench low in his stomach and moans from the sensation. 

“That’s better, isn’t it?” he hears the Doctor’s voice. Yes, it is. It is. “Don’t be afraid. I know it’s a bit scary at first.” Hayseed breathes out shakily. He’s glad the Doctor understands. But of course he would. He knows Hayseed better than he knows himself and the Scarecrow trusts him. 

The hand disappears for a second, leaving Hayseed to rut against the Monster at his own will. He feels fuzzy from arousal by the time it returns - it’s slick where it travels over his hip and then disappears between his thighs, and that tears a surprised sound from him. 

“Relax, my love.” The Doctor barely ever calls him that - only when he’s in a particular good mood, and if he could get any hotter under that burlap, he would. The Doctor makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat. “Us three… we’re going to have so much fun together.”

There’s something slick and hard pressing _inside_ of Hayseed now - it’s not painful, just terribly intimate, but it shakes his whole being and he feels lost in all these emotions he can’t place. The knot between his legs just pulls tighter, he gasps and he ruts and he pushes and he can’t keep his fingers from digging into the Monster’s flesh although he’s so afraid of leaving marks - 

The Doctor has never touched him this way before, and now he’s not even sure why anymore. He has the most graceful, clever fingers and he’s touching something inside Hayseed that makes him light up like a bonfire. He wants this. He knows he wants this, him, the Monster, the Doctor, forever. 

It’s too much for him to handle, and the world suddenly comes crashing down on him so forcefully, he chokes through his sutured lips. 

Soothing words carry him through his first orgasm, and by the time Hayseed’s mind returns to the here and now, the doctor has slipped his fingers free and gently pulls the Scarecrow’s pants back in place. A soft kiss is placed on his forehead, and Hayseed basks in the warmth, outside and inside, still nestled so close to his Monster while his creator showers him with such an unusual amount of affection. If this is how it’s going to be from now on, he can’t wait for the Monster to wake.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! That was a hoot to write :D
> 
> Leave me a comment if you liked it or come hang out at my [tumblr](https://piggyofoz.tumblr.com/)! (NSFW version [here](https://piggyofoz-nsfw.tumblr.com/).)


End file.
